Post-Colonial Discourse

We watch a short clip about an old man in an old folk's home who carries around a bit of turf he stole from the lawn bowling club. He has no sense of belonging anywhere. We read the novel White Teeth and discuss transnationalism. We talk about anal bleaching and how that reflects on post-colonial discourse. Did you know there is a cream to turn brown nipples pink?

My mother says: "Why are you so black?"

I say: "It's called melanin Mother, I just have more of it than you."

I sit through class because I love Susan and this is my second-last class with her. Ever. After this I graduate and return to my land of teh tarik and roti canai and perpetual haze and mosquitoes and people asking me in that patient, understanding tone: "When are you thinking of getting married?" And me replying with the sweetest smile I can muster: "Which part of GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE don't you understand?"

And now I have an essay to produce by Friday. An essay about concubinage in Malaya during the colonial times, contrasting the approaches of Somerset Maugham (colonial) and Simone Lazaroo (post-colonial).

They used to call us "little brown fucking machines", isn't that quaint? What's even better, they still do.